For an instant Venters felt himself whirl dizzily in the center of vast circles of sage. He recovered partially, enough to see Lassiter standing with a glad smile and Jane riveted in astonishment.
“Why, Bern!” she exclaimed. “How good it is to see you! We’re riding away, you see. The storm burst—and I’m a ruined woman!... I thought you were alone.”
Venters, unable to speak for consternation, and bewildered out of all sense of what he ought or ought not to do, simply stared at Jane.
“Son, where are you bound for?” asked Lassiter.
“Not safe—where I was. I’m—we’re going out of Utah—back East,” he found tongue to say.
“I reckon this meetin’s the luckiest thing that ever happened to you an’ to me—an’ to Jane—an’ to Bess,” said Lassiter, coolly.
“Bess!” cried Jane, with a sudden leap of blood to her pale cheek.
It was entirely beyond Venters to see any luck in that meeting.
Jane Withersteen took one flashing, woman’s glance at Bess’s scarlet face, at her slender, shapely form.
“Venters! is this a girl—a woman?” she questioned, in a voice that stung.